


Breathe

by CamilleDuDemon



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, What-If, Will Loves Hannibal, implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamilleDuDemon/pseuds/CamilleDuDemon
Summary: The fall is quiet and peaceful, as any other planned death shall be.Time stretches, yet everything happens too fast for Will to fully realize he's flying off a cliff, directly into the deathly embrace of the Atlantic Ocean.





	Breathe

The fall is quiet and peaceful, as any other planned death shall be.

Time stretches, yet everything happens too fast for Will to fully realize he's flying off a cliff, directly into the deathly embrace of the Atlantic Ocean.

Hannibal's strong grip tightens around his waist, soothing arms that whisper soft words to his scarred skin.

Will shuts his eyes, inhaling his scent of blood and musk and sweat.

At least he's gonna spend the rest of the eternity in a coffin that smells of home and love.

When their entwined bodies finally hit the ice-cold water, Will Graham welcomes death with a smile.

 

The water is cold, so cold it stings and hurts.

His limbs feel peacefully numb.

He tries to take a deep breath and his nostrils get filled with salty water and fish-smelling foam.

_Sighing in relief, Will Graham is finally ready to let his body go._

That's what he wanted, after all, when he threw he and Hannibal off the cliff.

 

_Death can be quiet if you don't fight it._

 

There's no need to fight, not anymore at least.

Things went exactly has they had to, and Will couldn't ever be more satisfied.

_At the end of the day, some great lives need spectacular endings._

His and Hannibal's, for how they were absolutely peculiar, deserve a honorable way out.

 

The darkness and the numbness are comforting, enveloping him so tight he cannot actually be certain of where he begins and water ends.

It's a painless death, though, the kind of death he has ever wanted.

It feels like floating in space, sleeping.

Everything is silent and weightless.

Except... _he's not floating anymore._

Suddenly, Will Graham jerks awake, his senses coming back all in once and his blood pumping furiously through his veins.

His chest feels heavy and it burns like hell when he grasps for air with his mouth wide open, lips dry from all the salt he gulped down while he was drowning.

An annoying, constant hissing hits his ears and it takes him a couple of seconds to realize it comes from his own throat.

A strong, scratched hand cups his cheeks.

“Breathe, Will. Please.”

Will's heart skips a beat.

_Hannibal._

He's alive.

They both are.

“Hannibal?”, he calls.

His voice sounds croaky, hoarse, and every spoken letter stabs his sore throat with a jolt of excruciating pain.

The former psychiatrist presses a gentle kiss on his blood-stained forehead.

“I'm here”, he whispers.

His voice sounds raspy, feeble.

Will tries to get himself in a half-sitting position, but ends up slumped on Hannibal's chest, drawing a suffering hiss from his lips.

Their breaths are short, distressed.

_Hannibal has a bullet stuck somewhere in his shoulder and probably he's close to bleed out._

Will tries to speak, but his voice gives up on him, so he's only able to let out a faint whimper.

There's no need to fill the silence with useless words, regardless.

_They're tired, but they aren't dead yet._

Hows, buts and ifs can wait until tomorrow...if they both survived to see the light of another day.

For now it's just the two of them, holding one onto the other into the endless, starry night.

Will Graham wanted to die but yet - when Hannibal hugs him tighter and starts to rock him against his chest as if to be sure that he's alive – the love he's feeling right now coming from Hannibal's embrace is overwhelming.

Hannibal's feelings for him had always been, but now it's a different kind of love.

It's warm and beautiful, serene... _complete_.

With a loud sigh, Will gives in into his arms and finally he's able to fully understand how much he's in love with Hannibal Lecter.

It's something helpless, desperate.

_Against all the odds, their past and his own sanity, Will Graham loves him._

A silent tear runs down his burning cheek as he tries his best to wrap his useless arms – they feel like a dead weight, mere pieces of meat somehow attached to his dull body – around his waist.

“Hannibal”, he whispers.

The older man's hand brush against his aching back.

_Will Graham is dead. He's dead and he's coming back to life shaped on Hannibal's very form, a new creature with no other need except having Hannibal Lecter by his side until the very end...whenever it may come._

“You're safe, Will...”, he faintly murmurs at his ear.

His voice is exhausted and his hands unsteady.

“We both are”, it's Will's reply, shortly before his heavy eyelids close on his bloodshot eyes.

There's no need to fight anymore.

Not when Hannibal is with him.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
